Haeres Genitus: The Begotten Heir
by little miss moonlight
Summary: *ON HOLD* After Harry and Ron are forced to escape Malfoy Manor without Hermione, she finds herself with a surprising cell mate: Draco Malfoy. Draco knows his life is forfeit, but is unwilling to die as the last Malfoy heir. After all, a half-blood Malfoy was better then no Malfoy...
1. Chapter 1

Haeres Genitus: The Begotten Heir

Chapter One: Blood Loss Was A Bitch

"Fetch Draco."

Hermione impulsively shivered as the words hissed out of Bellatrix Lestrange's cruel mouth. It was all she could do to not break down sobbing as her captor gripped her arm tighter and the new reality of their situation set in. In a matter of hours, she went from hunting horcruxes with her best friends on the run from Death Eaters to being hunted down like animals and brought to the devil's lair of Malfoy Manor. In a last ditch effort to save their lives, Hermione had hastily cast a stinging hex at Harry to disguise his famous face and gave false names. Too little, too late it seemed, since Draco actually _knew _what they looked like and wouldn't hesitate to expose the lie.

Whatever she was thinking next flew out of her head as a smug Wormtail ('_Why couldn't that man just DIE already', she thought) _came into view dragging by wand point a rather unwilling tall pile of rags. Then, she saw an unmistakable head of white blonde hair, although dulled from grime and dirt and she felt her mouth drop in shock. _That's not possible…that couldn't be Malfoy?_ Yet, standing in front of them now, it was undeniable that luck had gone horrible wrong for the once resplendent Malfoy heir. He was much thinner then she could remember seeing him, even though he had lost weight last year with the stress of trying to fix the vanishing cabinet that unleashed his fellow Death Eaters into the hallowed halls of Hogwarts. Now, he was practically gaunt, the deep smudges of sleepless nights under his surprisingly sharp grey eyes.

"Is it him? Is it Harry Potter?" the black-hearted witch he called Aunt asked, sneering at Draco. Hermione noted Bellatrix seemed disgusted she had to speak to Draco, let alone require his assistance. Draco met her sneer with an arrogant tilt of his head as he coolly eyed the three Gryffindors in front of him. "What's wrong with his face?" he gestured to Harry with shackled hands. Bellatrix looked questioningly to the Snatcher restraining Harry and the man shrugged his shoulders. The older witch smirked and pointed her wand to Hermione. "Looks like he ran into a little Stinging Hex….was it you, dearie? Give me her wand," she ordered the Snatcher that held onto Hermione's wand and then tapped her own dark oak wand to the tip. Hermione cringed when it revealed the last spell she used was indeed a stinging hex. Bellatrix cackled as she tossed the wand back to their captors.

"Got you! Clever for a Mudbl-WHERE DID YOU GET THAT?!" she shrieked as she spotted Fenrir Greyback with a rather ornate sword strapped to his belt. The were-man looked confused for a moment before answering. "Found it in the girls' stuff. Reckon it's mine now," he patted the hilt of the Sword of Gryffindor fondly. In a matter of seconds, the fierce witch was waving her wand around and the sword flew to her and all the Snatchers were expelled from the manor in a less then friendly manner. "GET THE GOBLIN!" she screamed at Wormtail, who shriveled pathetically under the woman's command, and scurried back to the dungeons without Draco.

"I think I'm going to have a little chat with this one first, girl to girl," she rasped to Hermione. The younger witch felt her heart stop. This was it, she was going to die in this house of horrors. She was dimly aware of Ron and Harry being taken away to the dungeons as they shouted for Hermione, screaming to take her place and be tortured instead. Oddly, Draco looked pensively at her but kept silent, his brows stitched together in a frown. Before she could think about it, the muggleborn felt the claws of the Lestrange witch dig into her arm and threw her roughly on the ground.

"Where did you get that sword?"

Hermione bit her lip, staying silent glaring daringly into the black madness of the older witch's eyes. A swift kick to her side knocked the breath from her lips. "Where. Did. You. Get. The. Sword," she was asked again, a kick accompanying each word. Still, she knew to keep silent. She would never tell this vile woman anything, so help her. Wormtail finally scurried back with another shackled prisoner, a goblin she recognized as Griphook from Gringotts. Bellatrix thrust the sword under his nose. "Is it real?" she asked, allowing him to hold it for further inspection. Despite the situation, she almost smirked when Griphook stared up at the much taller witch and sighed huffily. '_You didn't say the magic word….'_

After a short time and much fiddling around with the item, the goblin declared it made from goblin steel and most likely the real Sword of Gryffindor. Hermione watched Bellatrix's face fly into a rage. "How did you get it?! That is supposed to be in my vault! HOW DID YOU GET INTO MY VAULT?!" she bellowed, pointing her wand at the petite witch at her feet before casting a silent Crucio. Any brief amusement the Gryffindor had fled and all that was left behind was mind numbing pain. She couldn't help the screams that left her throat as she thrashed wildly on the ground, her veins flowed with acid and her nerves set on fire. She didn't know how long this went on, time became irrelevant. Just as she was sure she could endure no more, that her body was shutting down, the pain stopped. Heaving large gasps of air, her limbs continued twitching as she opened her eyes to see dark eyes glaring back at her.

Then, she was asked once more how she got into the Lestrange vault. Tears streamed down her dirty face as she shook her head at the ceiling. What was this mad woman talking about? No one could steal from Gringotts, and certainly not after Quirell had attempted to steal the Philosopher's Stone from Dumbledore's vault a few years prior. No one. Yet, here Bellatrix was positive that she, a mere teenager, could bypass goblin security and take a precious heirloom from her vault. Was she asking what _else_ she took? Hermione stopped listening to the mad witch's ranting but was brought back by another Crucio.

Her screams echoed in the large hall once more.

After a time the curse was lifted once more but before she could recover, Bellatrix crouched down and had Hermione's left arm stretched out in an unrelenting grip. A sharp glint of a blade caught her eye. Panic crept into petite teen and she began to sob as she felt the first pierce of what was certainly a cursed blade mark her soft inner forearm. "What else did you take from my vault, you filthy Mudblood?" Bellatrix dug her knife deeper into her wound.

"I didn't take anything!" Hermione sobbed, her free arm gripping the priceless Persian rug beneath her tightly. Bellatrix continued her work, making sure each cut was as deep and painful as possible. "Tell me! I will kill you, you disgusting bitch, and then I will kill your friends! WHAT ELSE DID YOU TAKE!" she shrieked, losing her temper. Hermione pounded her free right arm to the ground over and over, the pain was blinding. "I DIDN'T TAKE ANYTHING!" she repeated with sobbing breaths, trying to make the pain stop; anything to make it stop!

Finally, it did stop. Suddenly, Bellatrix flew away from her and stood up to look in shock at a tiny elf swinging on her sister's prized chandelier. "What the hell…" Lucius murmured, looking puzzled before the elf snapped its fingers and the light fixture plunged to the ground below, forcing Bellatrix to move quickly away from Hermione. "What are you trying to do, you stupid elf?! You could have killed me!" she shouted indignantly to the smirking elf. Hermione almost smiled in relief to recognize Dobby. They would be safe now.

"Dobby didn't mean to kill! Never kill…just seriously maim or injure," the cheeky elf jumped down to the floor and snapped his fingers once more. Harry and Ron ran up the stairs from the dungeons to see Narcissa's and Bellatrix's wands fly into Dobby's awaiting hand. Hermione couldn't move a muscle to go to her boys but they were coming towards her. They would help her escape this evil place and they could regroup. Just a little closer….

However, her relief turned to disbelief as she saw Dobby suddenly grab the two young wizards mid-run and disappear before they could get to her, Bellatrix throwing the cursed knife in their direction. The knife disappeared with them, and Hermione closed her eyes in sorrow, knowing it had hit its target. She couldn't even be bothered to try and stop the trail of tears following the familiar path down her cheeks. She had failed to keep them safe and now all was lost. What good were all the years of studying and sacrifices to try and help her best friends when she couldn't even help them stay alive long enough to complete Harry's destiny?

She felt herself being hauled to her feet and she swayed. Her scarlet blood dripped down her arm, she felt the rivulets flow down her fingers to the puddle beneath it. A rather large puddle, in fact. The brunettes' knees buckled and her eyes rolled back into her head. Blood loss was a bitch.


	2. Chapter 2

Haeres Genitus: The Begotten Heir

Chapter Two: You're Not Planning on Dying Anytime Soon, Right?

When she woke up, Hermione was unsurprised to find herself slumped on a cold stone floor. She blinked at the dimly lit dungeon, trying to adjust her eyesight and gather her surroundings. "Ah, she awakes," she heard a voice drawl drily somewhere to her near left. Wincing as she attempted to lift herself into a sitting position, Hermione noticed her injured arm had been bandaged. Rather poorly bandaged, actually, but bandaged none the less. "Hello?" she called out softly, turning to the direction of the speaker. Finally, she spotted a tall figure sitting on the ground a few feet from her against the wall, looking almost at ease in his position.

Draco Malfoy smirked at her, entertained by her owlish blinking. He had long ago adjusted to the darkness. Stretching out his legs, he stood to walk to her, frowning at her arm. The blood continued to seep through his makeshift bandage he had torn from his own shirt. Bloody cursed knives. "Malfoy?" he heard her ask breathlessly but he detected a small note of fear. He held up his hands in a disarming manner.

"Relax, Granger, I come in peace. After all, it's not every day you get to be in the company of Gryffindor's unofficial princess," he chuckled, watching her face turn from wary to confused. He took the opportunity to kneel down next to her and sighed as she tried to scoot back from him. "I just want to check your arm, really, I swear I'll try and leave your virtue intact," he smirked at her indignation before she huffily thrust her left arm under his nose.

"There's a good girl."

After a moment's silence, she couldn't help it. "Why are you being _nice_ to me? I'm the scum of the Earth, sullying your presence with my Mudblood germs or whatnot," she gritted as the fresh wound was exposed to air. She jerked her arm back when she was what was there.

_MUDBLOOD_

The bloody bitch had maimed her arm in large, childish print with a racial slur that was sure to scar nastily. She let a small sob escape her lips before clamping down. She couldn't let Malfoy see her cry over his favorite word etched forever into her arm. Hell, he probably thought it was rather funny she was branded like this. She saw no humor in his eyes, however, when she looked up. In fact, he looked rather sad for her.

"I can't get the bleeding to stop for too long. The knife she used was cursed…I'm sure it will eventually stop but not for a few days at least," he murmured, before grabbing the edge of his large shirt and began tearing another piece of it off into a strip. The amber eyed witch watched silently as he clumsily wrapped the new fabric tightly before tying a knot at the end. Well, she supposed he wasn't exactly used to bandaging up other people. Still, it was a decent job and for that, she was grateful.

"I'm sorry, you know," Hermione heard him say softly as he let her arm drop back to her gently, eyeing her for her reaction. "Sorry for what? Sorry I'm stuck in your glorious manor getting tortured to near death?" she asked unkindly, seeing him flinch. "Yeah, that, and the whole treating you like shit thing…Getting stuck in the dungeon of your own 'glorious manor' for months on end has a way of making you realize what an asshole you are. Get a lot of thinking time, you know?" he sighed, and gestured to the utter emptiness surrounding them. She nodded in agreement. "Yeah, you are kind of an asshole. Huge, actually. Congratulations on your self revelation, prat," the witch snorted primly. Really, took him long enough.

Draco surprised her with a bark of laughter. "I never thought I would see the day when Hermione Granger was congratulating me on being a repentant asshole." She couldn't help the small twitch of a smile on her lips. "I guess stranger things have happened….have you really been here months by yourself?" she asked, curious at how he ended up on the wrong side of the cellar door. He shrugged. "After I failed to kill Dumbledore like I was ordered to, Snape fled with me back here. Unfortunately for us, the Dark Lord was less than thrilled. Snape was still useful to him….I was not. So, to teach me a lesson in obedience, I was locked in here…and I was pretty sure they had thrown away the key but than others started coming in here too. There were prisoners that the Snatchers had captured or people who had to be reminded of who was _really_ in charge. When you got here, Dean Thomas and Luna Lovegood had been here for a few weeks. Ollivander, the wand maker, was here as well for about a month. Oh, and the goblin," he waved his hand dismissively at the thought of Griphook.

Hermione digested the information. Months. Malfoy had been down here for almost 11 months! "Merlin," she breathed out, overwhelmed with the thought she could be here for an indefinite amount of time. Suddenly, she felt pity for the young man in front of her. Asshole or not, he didn't deserve to be locked in a dingy dungeon for a freaking YEAR. "So now that we're best friends, any chance you can use that legendary brain of yours to get us out of here?" the blonde joked, hating the pity in her eyes, brief as it was.

Hermione rolled her eyes. Figures he would be nice to her to save his own ass. She adjusted herself to try and stand. Might as well get acquainted with her new home away from home. He stood quickly to help steady her, his hand cool to the touch on her elbow. "I think I'll live, Malfoy," she said smartly, using the wall to balance herself. Her eyes had adjusted rather well to the dimly lit surroundings, all her time in the Hogwarts library had prepared her for terrible lighting and squinting. "You don't plan on dying anytime soon, right?" he snorted, giving her the space she clearly wanted. "That's right," she shot back, walking along the wall and rounding a corner.

"Wouldn't want my new best friend dying on the first day, that's no fun. Haven't even had a chance to feel you up yet," he smirked at her stiffening back. _Oh, this is going to be so much better than when Thomas and Looney were here…._

_GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG_

She had allowed him to continue talking to her as he followed her around the cellar he no doubt could navigate with his eyes closed. Allowing him her company seemed like a small price to pay for her bandaged arm and, if she were honest, she felt badly he had been alone in here for the better half of a year. Hell, he was probably accustomed to talking to himself rather than face utter loneliness in the dark, forgotten by your own family. So, Hermione allowed him to prattle on about the mundane goings on of what had happened when her friends Luna and Dean were here. He talked of Luna's father disobeying Voldermort and printing positive pieces about Harry Potter in the Quibbler, which is how Luna had come to be prisoner in the dungeon. Dean was captured by Snatchers for running from the Muggleborn Registration. He was only kept at the Manor because he was a known associate of Dumbledore's Army and friend of Harry Potter.

After scouring the dungeon, which was pointless since she was positive Malfoy would have been doing the same for months, the bushy haired witch slumped back down onto the floor in defeat. "You're the heir to this bloody place, isn't there anything you can do?" she asked, trying to keep the frustration out of her voice. Draco snorted. '_Silly bint, does she really think I would be here for my own entertainment? How thick does she think I am?' he thought, shaking his head. _ "Seriously, do you think I'm touched in the head, Granger?" he asked aloud, slightly insulted. Hermione had the decency to lower her head in embarrassment. It really was an idiotic question.

Sighing loudly for her benefit, he gestured grandly to their surroundings. "I am the Malfoy heir, by blood, true enough. My father, however, is its current master and his will supersedes my own. I can't even call for a fucking house elf because the master does not allow it. My mother can't do too much for me besides keep me alive for as long as she can. I know my time is closing, Granger. At least you can make it entertaining," he smirked at her confused expression.

Hermione was rather flabbergasted. Here was the boy who in third year cried piteously when Buckbeak nipped his arm and wrung every last tear he could to get his way. The same child who Harry had caught sniveling in the haunted girl's loo last year because of what Voldermort would do to him if he failed in killing the headmaster. Yet, here he was, speaking of his inevitable death as if asked how likely he thought it was Slytherin would win the House Cup!

"How can you be so calm about dying? Not exactly a Slytherin trait let alone, a Draco Malfoy trait…." She trailed off, eyeing his seemingly easy shrug. "What can I say? I've had eleven months to come to terms with it. Even if Potter manages to actually kill the Dark Lord, what do you think awaits me? I let Death Eaters into a school full of children. I attempted to assassinate Dumbledore on several occasions and cursed innocent people doing so. Snape casting the spell that ended his life means nothing, I was the one who disarmed him and left him defenseless. It'll be a life sentence to Azkaban in the best case scenario. Personally, I would prefer the Kiss at that point. It's over for me, Granger." He finished quietly.

Hermione couldn't argue any of these points. He was correct on every level. He was Draco Malfoy, dead man walking. It was rather sad, really. Shutting her coffee colored eyes, she leaned her head against the slightly damp wall behind her. "Don't you go getting all SPEW on me now, Granger," his voice suddenly cut through her ears. Without missing a beat, she replied, "It's S.P.E.W. you inbred pillock."

She could practically feel the grin he shot her.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: "Perhaps I'll Go Play A Pickup Game of Quiditch, While The Dark Lord Cheers Me On From The Stands."

Waiting for Harry and Ron to come back for her was becoming tedious, Hermione realized one day. According to the scratches she had been making into the mildew covered wall, she had been stuck in this pit of hell for well over 2 months, which was really much _much _longer when one considered her only company was Draco freaking Malfoy. If it didn't embarrass her enough to have to use a disgusting bucket for relieving her bodily functions, _while he talked to her_, she nearly expired when her monthly visitor arrived. Apparently being in constant mortal peril and only surviving on meager meals didn't exempt her from having to wash her underwear in the small bin of water Mrs. Malfoy snuck down for her son. Thankfully, the blonde was either too busy laughing at her for 'finally becoming a woman' or being squicked out about the whole situation.

"So Granger, tell me a secret about yourself that even Potty and Weasel don't know," the Malfoy heir's deep voice called as he walked closer to her from the bucket corner. The petite witch rolled her eyes. "Yes, please get your Dict-o'quill ready and take notes as I spill all my deepest, darkest secrets to you," she snorted, standing to her full height and stretching, enjoying the cracking sounds coming from her back. He grinned at her, boyish charm shining in his eyes. "I knew it, you've always been in love with me but, alas, it was never meant to be because I was a big bad Slytherin, and you were a little Lioness. I knew it, the ladies can't resist me!" he declared theatrically, running a hand through his dirty hair. Hermione's jaw dropped at his audacity. "Oh yes, of course, because everything about me screams 'boy crazy'. All that time spent in dark libraries at all hours of the night, you didn't think I was just studying did you? Oh no, of course it was a great place for all my secret rendezvous! Countless lovers, I tell you!" she finished sarcastically.

Draco wasn't deterred in the least. She was, after all, his only entertainment in this bloody place. He slid in closer to her. "I knew it! So tell me, Hermione….how many men have actually climbed Mount Granger?" he stage whispered, enjoying the darkening of her cheeks. The witch frowned at him, willing the heat to leave her face. "How presumptuous of you to assume there is someone man enough to do so," she bit out, folding her scarred arms across her chest. Draco's fine eyebrows raised slightly. "All that time in the woods with two teenage wizards and _neither_ tried to sneak under your blankets at night?" he asked incredulously. Hell, she'd only been there 2 months and he'd thought about sneaking in a shag with her! It's not like they had anything better to do, he reasoned.

Her silence was answer enough. "I see, so when did you realize that Potter and Weasel were lovers? It explains a lot, really, how did I not see this sooner?" Draco teased, wincing when she boxed his ear. "Honestly! Harry is in love with Ginny and Ron, well, he was gone for a few months before he found us again. Besides, being hunted every second of your life doesn't exactly put anyone in the mood," she replied huffily. "Merlin, how old are we, 12? You don't have to love someone to perform the _act_ of love! How adorably muggle of you, Granger," the blonde smirked. "Hormones too much for you, Malfoy? Don't think I haven't heard you wanking when you think I'm asleep! How can you even think of doing _that_ when we're in _here_? Dreaming of a pliant Pansy Parkinson, are we?" she countered, annoyed that he didn't seem bothered by her revelation.

"Please, don't insult me! Pansy is alright, but she's not exactly wanking material, especially when I know firsthand that she's more frigid than McGonagall on a cold day in hell. As to the how, what else am I going to do when I'm bored, go read a book? Perhaps I'll go play a pickup game of Quiditch, while the Dark Lord cheers me on from the stands," he grinned at her annoyed expression. She was really too easy, she's lucky she was sorted into Gryffindor or else she would have been eaten alive.

"Or maybe you'll give me a pity shag."

Her curls frizzed up as her face burned redder then before. '_Well, stranger things have happened, she reasoned._ Taking a deep breath, she looked him square in the eye. "Maybe I will."

Draco's silvery eyes blinked at her in disbelief. '_Merlin's left nut, is she saying what I think she is?' he tried to process._ He took a tentative step closer, just a breath's width from her heart shaped face peering up to him. Even in these filthy conditions, she was still beautiful. Her curls were sleeked down from oil, finally tamed. Her honey eyes still glowed with intelligence, a very attractive trait indeed. Her mouth was plump from biting it nervously, her pink tongue slipping out to whet her lips. Her skin was smooth and pale from not seeing sunlight, the freckles she had before had faded away. '_When she's not too busy being swotty, she certainly is attractive,' he considered._ He reached a tentative hand to her face, encouraged when she didn't stop him. Whetting his own lips, he leaned down to press his mouth to hers in a questioning kiss.

Hermione remained quiet, but inside, she was screaming that this was Draco Malfoy, a Death Eater, who made it his personal mission to make sure she knew she was not welcomed anywhere. The smaller part of her brain quieted the screaming, reminding her of the Draco of the last two months, who was going to die a prisoner in his own home; the Draco who had ripped the clothing off his back to make a bandage for her so she wouldn't bleed out and die. That Draco had his lips on hers, and she didn't feel repulsed, not even a bit.

He roughly pressed her against the damp wall hard, his mouth never leaving hers. Her small fingers wrapped around the long pieces of hair at his nape, allowing him to lift her slightly up for a better angle. Their ragged breathing mingled with soft sighs as ran his hands all over her lush body, skinny from hard living but still womanly in all the right places. His knee slightly nudged her legs apart to get closer to her center, breaking apart from her briefly. "Are you sure this is what you want Hermione?" he asked breathlessly, terrified she would change her mind. Her eyes never left his as she slowly reached for the hem of her jumper and pulled up. Standing in front of him in only her bra and jeans, she waited for him to make his move. Swallowing hard, the blonde lifted his own shirt off and pressed both hands to her sweet face, leaning back in to kiss her. He was ridiculously hard but didn't want to scare her, only letting his hands roam her back and side for the time being.

Huffing slightly in impatience, the little witch reached behind her back and undid her bra hooks, letting it fall forgotten to the ground. Taking his surprised hands, she placed them firmly on her breasts, daring him to move them. He groaned at the moxie of the witch in front of him, lowering his head to her right nipple and taking it in his mouth. Her breath hitched as his tongue played with her, his other hand keeping busy with her other breast. Switching nipples, he grinned up at her. "Cheeky man," she hissed in pleasure, her head lolling back against the stones.

He didn't reply but began silently undoing the button on her pants, pushing down the material over her hips slowly. He was half expecting her to put a stop to it but she allowed him to remove the last article of clothing off her willing body. "Merlin, you are so bloody perfect," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her deeply. Hermione felt his hardened member poke her thigh and stiffened slightly. Sensing her apprehension, he tried to pull away but she wasn't having that. "It's okay, Draco," she whispered in his ear, pulling him back to her. Nodding, he slid down his own trousers and freed his member. Reaching a hand down to her center, his fingers touched her damp curls and he slid them inside her warmth. Gasping slightly at the new sensation, Hermione's breath hitched as he played with her clit and pumped at the same time. "Oh my gods…"

Pulling out, Draco ran a sticky hand down her leg and lifted it slightly to position his cock at her entrance. "Please," she breathed, holding onto his shoulders tightly. "I'm sorry," he pleaded, as he thrust up and broke through her innocence. Her body protested the intrusion intensely, but Hermione gritted her teeth to keep from crying. She felt him trembling, trying to hold back his own urges and desires. Sighing in relief as the pain subsided, she used her heel to dig into his buttock, urging him to continue. Lifting her completely, the wizard wrapped her legs around his waist and cried out at the tightness around him. He kissed her everywhere his mouth could reach as he pumped into her, her body totally enveloped in his. Hermione felt the flutterings of _something_ and her body screamed at her to reach in between their bodies and touch herself. Instinctually, she rubbed her clit and moaned into his mouth, her nipples hard against his chest. "Fuck, Hermione….keep doing that," he begged, loving the feeling of her quim fluttering around his cock as he fucked her into the wall. "Draco, I don't…I think…" she whined, the intense feeling in her belly swelling until she cried out into his glistening neck. With a yell, he coated her walls with his cum, continuing to thrust until he couldn't cum anymore.

Breathing hard into her neck, he gently pulled out and let her shaky legs down to the floor. Reaching down to pick up her sweater, he wrapped it gently around her shivering body and held her close. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly, rubbing his hands soothingly on her back. She nodded, letting her head rest against his chest. "You were perfect," the blonde kissed her mouth softly. Silently, they got dressed before sitting on the ground. Hermione let her head rest on his shoulder, her eyes growing heavy. "Sleep, Hermione," was all she heard before succumbing to sleep.

Draco stared down at her slumbering form. Waiting a few minutes, he inched away and laid her gently on the floor. He had to do this quickly before the time limit was up. Biting his lip, he mentally went over the spell before placing his hands firmly on her womb. He felt remorse for tricking her this way but he had no other option. It was now or never. Closing his eyes he whispered a deep sleeping charm to keep her unconscious. It felt strange to have the magic flowing through his veins after such a long time, like being able to see after a year of blindness.

It was a simple spell, really, for one of such consequence. "Haeres Genitus," he said firmly, feeling his palms warm against her bare skin, allowing the old magicks to flow through him. "Sanguis sanguinem meum, et caro de carne mea. Animam meam pono pro te*…" he gritted, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. Smearing it onto her flat belly, he drew the ruin for his family name, Malfoy.

Finally, the heat faded and the ritual was complete. Lying down next to her, he smiled gently with the knowledge his spell worked before slowly closing his eyes for his final rest. His breathing slowed minute after minute before finally, Draco Malfoy breathed no more.

*blood of my blood, flesh of my flesh. I give my life to you.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: "You Said 'Rot In Hell, You Sanctimonious Old Bitch.' It Was Quite Dramatic."

Narcissa Malfoy was not what most people would describe as a decent human being. She had spent her whole life conforming to the standards of pureblood society, whether she liked it or not. Passed from her father to her husband like a pretty little doll, she had been told to submit to a man's will since birth. When her only son was born, she realized she would be under the power of yet another wizard and more dangerously, this one would hold her heart in his tiny little hands. As Lucius pulled further and further away from her in the years following Draco's birth, Narcissa took comfort in the fact that she had finally found her niche in life and it was being a good mother. Whenever possible, she herself saw to the child's needs instead of elves, much to the disapproval of the other pureblood wives. Narcissa didn't care that the worst thing people said about her was that she loved her son too much.

It was this bond with Draco that caused the older witch to awaken at such a time that the sun was not yet peeking through the gauzy curtains guarding her windows. The same bond caused her feeling of uneasiness as she slipped on her silk house slippers and matching robe to sneak down to the dungeon, where her precious son had been imprisoned against her will by her husband. Clutching the robe closer to her pale body as a chill set in, Narcissa made quick work of the lock separating her from Draco.

"Lumos"

Her wand provided a meager light as to not startle the two occupants and forced herself to walk slowly into the stony prison. Frowning, she spotted the mudblood girl sleeping next to her son, almost intimately. For Draco's part, he didn't seem to mind the closeness but thankfully kept to himself, separate from her. Blue eyes continued to watch the pair as they slept for a few moments, noting that there weren't enough blankets for the coming weather. Something was pricking her senses, something very vital, but she couldn't place a finger on it. Coming closer to the young man in front of her, she smiled at the relaxed expression on his handsome face. It was a rare thing, even before his imprisonment.

Leaning down to brush her lips against his forehead, Narcissa's brain screamed at her. '_He's rather cold….so very cold…like ice.'_ Suddenly, her heart fell into her stomach and burst into tiny jagged pieces as a mother realized her child was no longer in this world and had passed through the Veil. Falling back numbly on her bottom, the witch shoved her fist into her mouth, biting as hard as she could to muffle her own scream. Her breaths came faster as she moved to his chest, hyperventilating when she placed her ear on top and no beating of his heart sounded. Tears began to cloud her vision as her shaking hands flew to Draco's face, caressing the boy's cheeks as if to bring warmth back to them. Finally, the sobs began to rack her frail frame as she collapsed onto his too-thin body and realized he would never wake up again.

Someone was wailing.

Rather loudly.

Next to her?

Hermione tried to focus on opening one amber colored eye, which was proving to be unreasonably difficult. "Draco?" she slurred, her mouth slack and uncooperative as well. _'Does sex normally make a person so utterly exhausted? How dreadful!' she thought, annoyed with the unresponsiveness of her body_. The wailing quieted. Finally succeeding in gaining her vision, Hermione was quite shocked to see Narcissa Malfoy looking frightful as she clutched Draco tightly. Bloodshot icy eyes pierced her core as her own eyebrows furrowed. How could Draco not wake with all the racket his mother was making? A niggling in her brain caused her to sit up look closer at her blonde lover.

"Draco?" she asked in a frightfully small voice. "What did you do to him?" Narcissa narrowed her eyes at the filthy witch. "What did you do to my son?!" She screamed her voice hoarse from crying. Reaching blindly for her discarded wand, the older witch thrust it at the girl in front of her and impulsively let a curse fly, not caring if she killed her. Hermione's arms instinctively flew to her face as if she could ward off any danger, and a most mysterious thing happened.

A small ball of light appeared instantly at her stomach, countering whatever Narcissa had sent, and dispatched it back to the shocked blonde. Hermione couldn't believe her eyes when the Malfoy matriarch was sent forcefully back from Draco and landed in an undignified heap on the freezing stone. Hermione's hard breathing was the only sound for a few moments. "No," the fallen witch whispered, almost to herself. Hermione moved to stand, but was not quick enough before Madame Malfoy came upon her. "NO," Narcissa hissed incredulously, lifting up the brunette's tattered jumper.

Staring her in the face was the bloody rune of Malfoy, smeared on the stomach of a witch of no wizarding birth. Hermione couldn't believe what she was seeing. Question after question ran through her brain but her mouth couldn't utter a sound as she saw Draco's mother begin to cry anew. A flood of emotion filled the Gryffindor as it finally sunk in that Draco Malfoy was dead. A boy who was barely a man, who took her innocence only hours before, lay lifeless before her. Her slight shoulders sagged and the breath left her lungs.

Narcissa continued to stare at the blood rune, knowing now what had cost her son his life. _'My poor Draco….he was desperate….he knew the Dark Lord would never let him live…'_ _she mourned sorrowfully. _A small, very small, bead of hope blossomed in the cold witch's chest. It was always too late for Draco, but Narcissa had held out hope that he could be spared. It was obvious that her son hadn't had the same hope and did the only thing he could to insure his blood's survival. But no matter how unappealing the choice was, at least Narcissa knew a piece of Draco would live on, she would make sure of it.

Coming to her senses, Narcissa grabbed Hermione by the shoulders and hefted her to her feet. "Listen to me, Mud-Miss Granger. My son sacrificed his life so that a piece of him would live on in you. You will not do anything to harm my grandchild, or so help me, I will drag you back to this miserable dungeon myself and you will wish for death everyday of your miserable life, do you understand me?" Narcissa grabbed the muggleborn's chin hard, forcing complete eye contact. Hermione could only nod, unable to process what was being said to her.

Clutching her wand tightly, Narcissa dragged Hermione up the stairs and kept her close as she spirited them towards the front door. Whispering the counter-charms to the manor's blood wards, the blonde dragged the hours pregnant witch across the gates of Malfoy Manor and instantly apparated them out of danger.

Andromeda Tonks was still quite the formidable witch even in her middle age, and not one to be crossed when awoken from her sleep abruptly. Since the death of her husband only months before, Andromeda slept very little and was easily awoken by the sounds of footsteps approaching her home. Clutching the wand from under her pillow, the dark eyed witch crept stealthily down the stairs and into the kitchen, where the footsteps stopped just outside her door. A moment passed before a hesitant knock sounded. "Who's there?" she asked forcefully, her wand at the ready.

"Andromeda?" 

Her ears perked at a voice she hadn't heard for a very long time. Frowning, she pointed her wand at the door. "What was the last thing I told Mother before leaving Black Manor permanently?" she questioned harshly, not believing her youngest sister was outside her door. A long pause sounded. She got ready to blast the door before a voice finally answered.

"You said 'Never have I been happier to be a muggle's wife than in this moment. Rot in hell, you sanctimonious old bitch.' It was quite dramatic."

Smiling briefly to herself at the memory, Andromeda took a deep breath and opened the door to see her pale sister in a dressing robe and…Hermione Granger? Allowing them access to her home, she quickly summoned a first aid kit. "What the hell, Cissy?" she muttered as she began treating the petite witch's injuries and stopped at her scarred arm. Lifting it so her sister could see, she shook the arm at her accusingly. "Really, Narcissa? Was this necessary?"

"Bellatrix always did have a way with words."

Tut tutting to herself, she continued to clean the ugly scarring before Hermione finally decided to speak. "What did he do to me?" She asked quietly. Both witches gave pause. The elder Black sister raised a dark eyebrow at the younger Black and Narcissa silently raised Hermione's jumper up to show the blood rune. Both black eyebrows jumped up into Andromeda's hairline as the blonde carefully lowered the jumper back down. "So….Draco is…?"She asked carefully, the look of grief crossing Narcissa's face answering her question.

"You are carrying the next Malfoy heir, my dear girl. It's an ancient spell only few purebloods have ever used. Haeres Genitus. The Begotten Heir," Andromeda gently answered the 19 year old girl. Hermione said nothing. "It's a spell so powerful that it takes the life of the caster as payment. If the scion of a House is in mortal peril, and it is unlikely he will survive for much longer, the wizard can give his life essence to a woman so she will conceive an heir. Of course, the chances of a woman being in close enough contact for conception to occur is extremely slim, so this spell is very _very_ rare. Most purebloods have forgotten about it over the centuries," the witch continued to explain.

Hermione laughed bitterly, surprising both women. "Yes, I guess the chances of sex occurring while one is in 'mortal peril' would be quite slim, wouldn't it? Aren't I just a lucky girl? Not only did I allow Draco Malfoy a pity shag in the hopes of neither of us dying as virgins, but I got a bonus prize: a baby which required a blood ritual and the life of its father to be born. Whatever shall I name him?" she spat out, glaring at Narcissa. Hermione felt angry. In fact, she had never been more livid in her life. She had been deceived by a man she thought she could trust, and the consequences of her blind loyalty would ruin the rest of her life.

'_Merlin, I'm such a stupid, bloody Gryffindor!'_


End file.
